


Hidden Language

by SheeWolf85



Series: Dancetale Reader Fics [1]
Category: Dancetale - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dancetale, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Past Rape/Non-con, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Romance, minor language, reader has a nickname, reader is female
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheeWolf85/pseuds/SheeWolf85
Summary: You are entering a competition to hopefully win a scholarship.  At a try-out, you see a skeleton perform the best tango you've ever seen.  His moves speak to your soul and capture your heart.  You have to know who he is and get to know him better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, and welcome to my new fic! I've wanted to write something to dancetale for a while, but until now nothing really worked with my muses. This is going to be part of a series of dancetale oneshots and short fics. They aren't going to be connected; they're all going to be random stories that don't go together, but all will feature the reader with a dancetale character. I hope you enjoy!

 

" _Dance is the hidden language of the soul" – Martha Graham_

* * *

You watched in pure, unadulterated fascination as the couple on the stage moved fluidly with each other. It was obvious they had been dancing together for a long time. They seemed to move as one being, gliding deftly across the stage as though their feet never even touched its surface.

As the music came to its close, the couple ended their dance. They bowed to the nonexistent audience and walked off stage hand-in-hand.

You were pretty sure you'd never see anything as beautiful as that ever again in your life. Your own dancing looked like someone doing the chicken dance whilst having a seizure compared to that. You wouldn't win the contest, and that was a fact, because there was no way in hell those two would lose.

"Ugh, it's finally over," Imogen said to your left.

"I know, I thought they'd never get done." Brenda was just as rude. "What do you want to bet they'll get boo-ed off the stage during the contest."

Both girls laughed. You scowled.

"That's pretty mean," you said. "They were great dancers."

Imogen huffed. "There you go again, defending monsters. Dude, they were goats. Freaking dancing goats. You can't tell me that won't get laughed at."

You rolled your eyes and looked back to the stage as you waited for the next person to come out and practice their performance.

Monsters had been dancing since forever, as far as you knew. You had the privilege to be friends with a few monsters, and they way they talked about dancing made it seem like more of a religion than a career, pastime, or art form. They spoke about how their souls resonated with their chosen style and how it had become a form of communication.

Monsters had even tried out for dancing competitions like the one you had entered, but they rarely won anything. All of the judges had always been humans, and you suspected that they had a grudge against monsters for some reason or another.

A lot of humans did. They didn't like monsters for any number of reasons they could conjure up. Monsters were willing to work for less money, so they were taking up all the available jobs. Monsters were more passionate about everything, including their love lives, so they were stealing girls and guys away from their less-than-stellar partners. And now, monsters even wanted to get an education so they could take the higher-paying jobs away from humans.

If anyone bothered to ask your opinion, you'd say that monsters were doing nothing more than getting what they had deserved for so long—getting better paying jobs and more recognition for their efforts.

Nobody cared to ask you, though. You were pretty much invisible to begin with, which you supposed made it easier to befriend a race that had been ignored for the majority of their existence.

Your attention was brought back to the stage as the first strains of a tango played on the speakers. You ignored the snickers and giggles of the jerks around you and watched as a tall skeleton began dancing. He was wearing a plain white dress shirt, black slacks, and a red sash around his waist. Between his teeth he held a blood red rose.

His movements were beautiful, crisp, and clean. His footwork amazed you, his long legs alternating between huge strides and short, half-steps as he danced and spun around the stage. His hips had you strangely mesmerized with the way he sashayed them in time with his graceful steps.

You could swear you felt your body heating up as you watched him dance. You couldn't take your eyes off him, as if he had somehow put a spell on you. His back arched backward in a particularly sensual move that had your heart pounding almost painfully against your chest.

His dance ended as he fell to his knees. You couldn't help but clap for him, despite being the only one who did so. Your cheeks burned brightly as you cleared your throat and put your hands down. You caught the grin he shot your way, however, and it made whatever embarrassment you might suffer worth it.

"I think you might have a little drool," Imogen said, gesturing to the side of your mouth.

You scowled at her in return, but secretly wiped your face just to make sure you didn't actually drool. You might not have been surprised if you had.

The next few dances were humans. They did a nice job, you thought, but nothing could compare to that skeleton. You weren't even sure the waltzing couple before him could compare. Maybe it was just you, but he seemed to capture the sensuality and torment of a lonely tango and sent all the feels straight into your soul.

And then it was your turn. As you made your way down to the stage, you sent a quick prayer to whichever deity might be listening that you could remember your steps and do them well. Your chosen dance style was swing, but you couldn't find a partner for the competition. You wanted the scholarship bad enough that you improvised and created your own solo choreography. Your dress was light blue with frills around the ends to accentuate your movements.

As you walked backstage toward the curtain, you saw the tall skeleton that had captured your attention so easily before. He stood with his back against the far wall, talking with other monsters around him. The couple that had danced the waltz so fluidly laughed with him. Another monster you hadn't seen dancing yet stood by his side, smiling up at him.

He was also a skeleton, but much shorter than the tango-dancing one. The shorter one was wearing black track pants, a blue hoodie, and sneakers on his feet. You had to wonder what style of dance he resonated with.

You had a tough time forcing your attention back to what you were supposed to be doing. The judges were waiting on you, after all. Granted, this wasn't a final decision, but they were weeding out the performances that didn't meet the standard they had set as a baseline. You couldn't afford to mess this up. You had practiced a million times; you were ready for this.

But, dammit, you also really wanted to talk to that damn skeleton and tell him how good you thought he was.

After your performance, you promised yourself.

You walked on stage, your gut trembling with fright as you stood in the center and waited for your song to start. You took a deep breath, nodded, and stood still with your hands at your sides.

The moment the music started, your body transformed into a vessel of dance. You felt your heart lighten and all fear wash away as you lost yourself to the happy beat. Your arms swung around as your legs kicked and stepped in what you could only describe as organized chaos. Your footwork was practiced perfection. The smile on your face would never fade as long as your body could express the music in such an energetic and joyful way.

Your whole body was covered in sweat by the time the song ended. Your pose was spread, your hands in the air as you panted and grinned at the judges.

None of them seemed impressed. You didn't let it get to you; they hadn't shown much of a reaction to anyone's dances.

You gave a curtsey, spun on your heel, and skipped off stage.

The moment you were behind the curtain, you felt eyes on you. You couldn't help but look over at where the skeletons had stood before your performance. They weren't there. You frowned to yourself; maybe they decided they didn't need to stick around? The thought made you sad. You cleared your throat and turned to head back to your area.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you nearly ran right into the very skeleton you had wanted to talk to. He stood a foot and a half taller than you and grinned down at you with a strange sort of…something in his eye sockets. Happiness, maybe?

"Hello, Human," he said with a surprisingly loud voice. "Your dance was exquisite."

You were pretty sure your face was as red as the sash around his waist. "Oh…thank you," you replied. "You, um…I think you'll probably win."

His cheekbones began to glow a soft orange as he stepped backward and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neckbones.

"Thank you…what is your name?"

"Um, my friends call me Chameleon because I can dance all kinds of different styles. Swing is just my favorite." You kind of curtseyed and blushed.

He nodded. "Hi, Chameleon. I'm Papyrus." He held out his bony hand, and you didn't hesitate to shake it. "I can also dance different styles, but I confess I've never tried swing."

You smiled brightly, seeing a way to possibly get to know him better. "You're very energetic when you dance; I bet you'd be good at it. I could maybe show you some secrets…one day?"

His answering smile was so happy and bright that you couldn't help but feel blown away by it. "I would love that!"

You couldn't take your eyes off his as you nodded and talked about when you were both free. You felt as if he were talking directly to your soul, your hand still in his and your whole body resonating with such happy energy that you wished you could stay there and talk to him forever.

All too soon, however, an announcement was made over the sound system that the results were in and posted at the judges' tables.

You didn't want to let go of his hand. To your amazement, he squeezed your fingers.

"Shall we go find out how we did?"

You smiled and nodded. "Yes."

You probably should have realized that his long legs meant he walked fast, but you were surprised that you had to jog to keep up with him. You waited, clutching his hand like a life raft, as people shuffled about by the judges' tables to find their name and their score among the list of other dancers. You were pushed and shoved, and you tried to push and shove back.

You really didn't like it when Papyrus took his hand from yours, but you decided it was completely worth it when his arm draped around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. You looked up at him, too happy to say anything about it but also a little confused.

"People can be so pushy," he said. "You're tiny and delicate; I'll protect you."

You sure as hell were not delicate. But, you decided that you could be if it meant you got to stand this close to him. You just nodded and stepped a little closer, wrapping one arm around his…waist?

It shouldn't have surprised you that he didn't have a waist to wrap your arm around. He was a skeleton, after all. But when your arm fount itself on his hipbone instead of a soft, fleshy waist, you jumped back a little.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. You tried to find a better place to put your hand and ended up reached up to his shoulder.

He smiled at you. "It's okay, Human…I mean, Chameleon."

It was finally your turn at the lists. You found your name and frowned a little when you saw that you had been given a seven out of ten. You were sure you had done better than that. Oh, well. At least you were still in. A dancer had to get above a five to be allowed to dance in the competition.

You looked over when you heard Papyrus whimper. His lovable grin was turned down a sad frown. You really didn't like that look. You found his name and…

FOUR?! The judges had given him a four!

"Papyrus! I…what?! This is…I think they were too amazed by your—"

You didn't get to finish. He walked quickly away from you, leaving you there in the middle of the crowd. You stared after him as you felt your heart shatter for him. He was a monster. Dancing was his whole life, part of his being, and these dumbass judges had just told him through a freaking number that he wasn't good enough to compete.

That really pissed you off.

You pushed your way through the crowd toward the back exits where you knew the judges had gone. They might still be there. A few others had gone out that way as well, possibly to demand a reconsideration for themselves. You weren't interested in that. You were in, but you really didn't care at the moment if you got kicked out because of this. You were more interested in getting Papyrus in.

As you had hoped, the judges were standing in a semi-circle around a few other dancers as they pled their cases. You waited your turn.

"And what can we do for you…dancer?"

You sucked in a breath and met the dark blue eyes of the judge who had spoken to you. "The skeleton was way better than a four."

His eyes widened. He had clearly been expecting you to give all the reasons that you deserved a better score.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

You huffed. "The skeleton—the one that did the tango? He deserved a ten, but I'd be okay with him getting a six at this point. He deserves a chance in this competition. Just because he's a monster doesn't mean he couldn't use a scholarship like the rest of us." You put your hands on your hips to show you meant business.

The judge smiled and tapped another judge on the arm. "Hey, listen to this. She actually wants the bony monster to compete."

That caught the other judges' attentions as well. "What?" the female judge asked.

You repeated your statement. "The skeleton's tango was undoubtedly the best dance today," you said, holding your head high and speaking with command. "But he was only given a four. A four means he can't compete, and that's not fair. You're supposed to be judging on skill and poise and all that, not on race."

You caught a few judges blushing. You knew what had happened—they didn't think anyone would call them out on their biased opinions.

"Just change it to a six so he can compete," you pleaded. "I'm not asking for him to get the highest score. I just feel like not allowing him to compete is doing everyone who will see it and judge it a disservice. I mean, the whole world deserves to see him dance."

You were blushing now, probably showing more than you should show of how you felt about him. If it worked, you didn't care.

"Give us a moment," the blue-eyed judge muttered.

You nodded and stepped back to let them huddle. After a few minutes, they turned back to you. The slight nod was all you needed.

"Thank you!" you all but screamed. You refrained from hugging anyone. "Thank you so much! Can I go tell him now, or will you want to contact him first?"

"You can go tell him, I suppose."

With another screech of joy, you turned and ran back into the building. You didn't notice the short skeleton by the door, watching you with a grin on his face.

You ran in and pushed your way through the still-large crowd in the audience to make your way backstage. You spotted Papyrus standing near the back exit with one of the furry goat monsters. The woman. You hadn't even bothered to get their names. You felt a little bad, but you had excellent news to deliver.

"Papyrus!" you shouted, running up to him.

"Hello, Chameleon," he said, his mouth still turned down in a sad frown.

You smiled brightly. "I talked to the judges. They're going to change your score to a six!" You bounced on your toes for a moment, waiting for your news to sink in.

"You did what, my dear?" the female monster asked, surprised.

You smiled up at her. "I thought it was a travesty that Papyrus got such a low score, considering he was the best dancer I've ever seen in my entire life, so I…may have…begged the judges a little to give him a higher score." You were starting to realize that maybe you had made a mistake. What if he didn't want you to do that? What if—

Before your thoughts could get any darker, you were picked up in a tight embrace and swung in a circle. Papyrus set you down only to hug you even tighter.

"I can't believe it!" he cried. "I get to compete?!"

You nodded up at him. "Yes."

"Sans!" He pulled away from you only to grab the shorter skeleton—you hadn't even noticed him there—up in a strong embrace. "Sans, you don't need to talk to the judges. My new human friend did it, and I get to compete!"

"Heh…I know, bro. Can ya put me down, please?"

Papyrus did; he put Sans down gently and turned to you.

"Chameleon, come here." Papyrus held out his hand. You went to him and took it. "This is my brother, Sans. Sans, this is Chameleon, my friend."

You watched as the shorter skeleton looked you over. "Hi, Sans." You gave him a small wave.

"'Sup. I saw you talkin' to the judges. Thanks for that. Not many people would do that."

You shrugged like it wasn't anything big, but you knew it meant a lot. "I'm just happy it worked."

"Heh. Me too, cuz I was gonna kick some judge's ass if it didn't." He shrugged, too, but you weren't sure if he actually meant that.

The woman next to Papyrus gently cleared her throat. Papyrus' cheekbones turned orange.

"Oh, how rude of me…Chameleon, this is Toriel. She's another good friend."

You reached out and took her hand. "Nice to meet you. Your dance was beautiful, too."

"Thank you, dear."

The four of you talked for a while before you realized your family was waiting for you to tell them how you'd done. You said your goodbyes after making sure you and Papyrus were still on for swing lessons and headed home.


	2. Chapter 2

You had known Papyrus would make a good swing partner, but never had you expected to feel so good while dancing with him. His energy was limitless, and his utter joy in movement was contagious. You felt like you could dance with him for days.

As it was, after two hours of teaching him some moves, him picking it up faster than you ever thought a person could, and the two of you getting lost in the dance, you were so worn out you weren't sure you'd ever dance again. Your feet hurt, your muscles were sore, and you were most definitely out of breath.

"Rest for a while, Chameleon, then we'll dance some more later."

You weren't sure about that, but you gave him a smile anyway. He gave you a glass of water and sat next to you on the comfortable couch. You took a few sips before setting it on the coffee table and leaning back. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you effortlessly leaned into his chest.

"You're really good, Papyrus," you said, looking up at him.

He smiled down at you. "As are you, but you already knew that."

You couldn't help but blush. You were so tired. You probably also smelled like a yak after sweating so hard, but somehow you didn't care about that as you relaxed against Papyrus' chest. His fingers gently stroked your arm from your shoulder to your elbow and back again, making circles that felt so good. You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes, only for a moment, you told yourself.

You found yourself a bit mesmerized by his scent. You'd smelled it earlier as you danced together, but somehow it was more evident now. He'd worn a cologne you weren't familiar with and it smelled like spices and laundry soap. You let your senses be overtaken with it as your body relaxed further into him.

"I've really loved dancing with you," you heard Papyrus say. His voice was low, quieter than you'd heard him speak before. You felt the corners of your lips pull up in a faint smile; you'd loved dancing with him, too. You wanted to say it, but you had a hard time concentrating. You were too relaxed. You felt something hard press against your head. You nuzzled against it, a small noise escaping your throat.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention, but only enough to make you consciously aware of what the noise was. You didn't want to move or even open your eyes.

"Shhh." You felt Papyrus move gently under you. "She's sleeping. I think I wore her out."

You heard a snicker. "You know you're s'posed to keep your dancing vertical, don'tcha?"

Your brow twitched; was he insinuating that you'd slept with Papyrus?

Papyrus' chest under you vibrated with a low groan. "Sans, don't be gross. She showed me how to swing, and it was fun." His hand rubbed your arm a little harder. "Sans…what do I do?"

"Don't know whatcha mean, bro." Sans' voice was closer, on the other side of Papyrus instead of across the room.

"I mean…I like her. The way she dances is mesmerizing. We fit together very well. We didn't even have one slip-up while dancing today. Our footwork flows easily around each other. I feel…complete when I dance with her."

Your whole body warmed at his words. You wanted to confess that you felt the same way, but you couldn't move. You were too far gone, so close to sleeping, that you couldn't even be sure what you were hearing was real.

"You gotta tell 'er, bro. I mean, when you find someone you can be yourself with, you can't let that get away from you. Have you tried showing her your dances?"

You felt Papyrus shake his head. "I'm a little scared to."

"Why?"

"What if…what if I show her too much?"

There was a short pause, and you couldn't help but wonder what he meant. You wanted to get to know him better and share every dance you knew with him. You also wanted him to share his dances with you. You wanted this…whatever it was—relationship, perhaps—to build and grow, possibly into something as beautiful as his dancing.

"Ask yourself what you would do if she showed you something difficult about her past. Would you push her away?"

Again, you felt him shake his head. "No. I would support her and hope to help her heal."

His words warmed your heart yet again. At this point, you were pretty sure you were dreaming. Sans sounded almost like he knew there were things you'd done that you wished you could undo.

"Then you need to trust that she'd feel the same way. Yeah, you've got baggage, but so does everyone else. I can promise you that she ain't perfect, Paps. But maybe she's perfect for you."

"Thank you, Sans. I'll talk to her."

You felt his phalanges in your hair, gently wiping away tendrils that had fallen out of your ponytail away from your face.

"She's so beautiful."

"Meh."

His chest rumbled with another groan. "I don't care what you think; she's beautiful."

Sans' laughter was cute; a series of grunts and snorts. "I'm glad you think so. She looks kinda…I dunno. Not sayin' she's ugly or anything, but she's…human."

You felt a little indignant at his comment, your eyebrows twitching a little with the desire to furrow together.

"This curve right here," Papyrus' finger traced the line of your nose up to your eyebrow, "when she looks away, I find myself staring there. And her lips," again, his finger traced your lips. You felt them twitch. "I think I'd like to kiss them."

"Welp, that's my cue, bro. You can fawn over her graceful beauty all you want, but I ain't stickin' around to hear the poetry you're undoubtedly going to write about that one specific freckle that caught your attention."

His finger poked your cheek gently. "That one. It looks like a heart."

Sans snorted. "Have fun, bro. Try not to let her sleep too long; you gotta make spaghetti tonight."

You felt the moment Sans was no longer in the room. Papyrus' chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and his hand went back to tracing gentle patterns on your arm.

* * *

"Oh my god, Papyrus, this is delicious!" You couldn't help but gush about the spaghetti you were currently shoveling into your mouth. You were starving, sure, but you'd never tasted anything so good.

"I'm glad you like it," Papyrus said with a grin.

After you'd slept for a while, Papyrus had woken you up and asked if you wanted to stay for dinner. His cheeks were dusted with a soft orange glow as he asked. You were delighted to accept; you had secretly been hoping you could stay longer anyway.

You had decided that the conversation you heard between the brothers was not a dream. You did have dreams after that, but they were weird and made no sense.

The brothers had invited other friends to eat dinner with them. You were excited to meet them. Undyne and Alphys were a couple and sat next to each other. They talked with Sans a lot and used some slang that you weren't sure how to interpret. Toriel was there as well as the male monster that had danced with her at the competition review. You learned that his name was Asgore and that he and Toriel were married but separated due to some issues they were trying to deal with. Grillby was an interesting monster, you thought; made of fire but not burning anything he touched. He was funny and charming, and obviously cared about the skeleton brothers a lot.

After dinner, you wanted to help clean up. You were a little surprised that Sans was the one to tell you to go sit down; he'd take care of everything. People had been joking about how lazy he was. Maybe he wasn't after all.

As you walked out of the room, you caught his left eye glowing. Curious, you turned to watch as he picked up all the dirty dishes with magic and moved them effortlessly to the kitchen. Okay, maybe he was a bit lazy.

The eight of you went out the back door to lounge in the backyard for a bit. You sat next to Papyrus and watched as Grillby lit a fire in the pit. He set the wood in a cute little tipi shape, then blew on his hand to send a flame out that engulfed the structure. Soon, the fire was blazing.

"Are you gonna dance for us?" Undyne asked, looking at Grillby.

You could have sworn his facial fire turned slightly blue. He shrugged and held out his hand. Undyne grinned as she handed him two sticks with something thick and black at each end.

Interested, you leaned forward in your seat to watch him light each end of the two sticks. He stepped back and began dancing. You bit your lip as you watched him move. Although it probably wasn't scary for him, being made of fire and all, you couldn't imagine swinging those sticks around as quickly as he did. You'd end up burning yourself to a crisp if you tried.

You clapped as he ended his dance. The rest of the monsters joined you, Undyne and Asgore giving you a strange look. Grillby bowed and somehow put out his sticks, then went to sit down.

Sans appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, with a boombox on his shoulder. "So we're dancing tonight?" he asked with a shady grin on his face. "Undyne and Alphys, you're next."

He set the stereo down and pressed play. A strong hip-hop beat began to play. Undyne shot out of her seat, startling you for a second, as she immediately began to bounce and shuffle her feet.

"C'mon, babe," she said, holding out a hand to Alphys.

The yellow monster blushed deep orange and slowly got out of her seat. "You know I don't like to dance in front of people."

Undyne grabbed her girlfriend's hand and pulled her up. "Sans will dance if you do."

You heard a strange sputter and looked over at Sans. He was staring at you, his eye sockets huge and—scared? The eye contact only lasted for a half a second before he looked away, his whole face a light shade of blue.

"No, I won't," he muttered. He put the hood of his jacket up then, and something told you that he was hiding from you specifically.

You had to wonder if he would dance if you weren't there. The thought made you feel bad; no monster should be afraid of dancing.

Undyne somehow managed to get Alphys to agree, and you watched with half-hearted interest as they moved in sync with each other. Despite Undyne being more than a foot taller than Alphys, their movements were fluidly in tandem as they hopped and jumped, skipping from side to side and generally enjoying the hip-hop beat.

You kind of wished you could bow out and leave early so Sans wouldn't feel like he had to hide.

"Are you okay?" Papyrus asked softly.

You looked over at him and smiled. "Yeah," you lied.

His brow bones furrowed. "What's wrong?" He reached out take your hand.

You squeezed his phalanges in your hand and wondered how you would tell him it was your fault his brother was uncomfortable. "I…I don't know."

"Are you worried about dancing? Because you don't have to."

You smiled at him and his thoughtfulness. "That's not it. Look at your brother." You looked over at Sans, his head down and still covered in his hood. His sneakered foot was bobbing to the beat, and it made you wonder if he wanted to dance. That thought made your heart hurt worse.

"He doesn't like dancing in front of people. He'll dance alone or with me, and that's about it."

You looked back at Papyrus. "Would he dance if I wasn't here?"

His smile softened. "No." He shook his head. "Don't feel bad, Chameleon; he's just very shy."

That did make you feel a little better.

"Why are you called Chameleon, anyway," Undyne puffed as she sat back down. Alphys sat in her lap. "Do you change color?"

You smirked but shook your head. "No, I'm just good at all kinds of dances."

"Go ahead and show us, then," Undyne grinned. "I heard you swing; betcha you can't beat what Al 'n' I just did."

You blushed. You'd done hip-hop once in your life and nearly broke your neck breakdancing.

"Um…you'll win that bet. I guess I should say I'm good at a lot of different kinds of dance, but not all of them."

Undyne laughed, happy to have her status as best hip-hop dancer still stand. Well, second-best, but you didn't know that.

"Would you care to dance?" Asgore asked, looking at Toriel with a longing expression.

Toriel smiled at him. "I think I would. Sans, can you change the music?"

Sans didn't get up or even look up. Instead, he lifted a glowing blue finger and pointed at the stereo. The tune changed to a hauntingly beautiful waltz.

You had to wonder if all monsters could use magic like that, or if Sans was just special.

Asgore got up and held out his hand. Toriel took it with a soft smile on her mouth. Together, the two danced gracefully around the fire. You could feel the pain and longing in their dance; they both wanted to get back together, but there was something big preventing it.

You leaned back in your seat and looked at Papyrus. Surprisingly, he was looking at you. He smiled and took your hand again.

"Would you like to dance with me after this?"

You grinned. "I'd love that."

With a rush of excitement in your gut, you squeezed his fingers and watched the struggling couple dance. You could feel the emotion pouring out of them, their hearts and souls trying so hard to figure out and solve the problem between them. The kiss they shared at the end nearly brought a tear to your eye.

They sat back down, and Toriel leaned into Asgore's side. He cautiously put his arm around her before kissing her head. It was a sweet moment to witness.

"Swing, please," Papyrus said.

Sans lifted a glowing finger again. The music changed, but instead of what Papyrus had asked, you heard the first strains of a tango.

Papyrus sighed. "Sans…"

The smaller skeleton didn't say anything. He didn't move. He just sat there with his hood hiding his face.

"Are you okay with this?" He asked, meeting your eyes.

You smiled and stood up. "I'm perfectly fine with this."

You remembered his words from your dream. Well, your not-dream. He was worried about this, and you decided you would just have to show him that you would accept him no matter what was in his past. You stood up and held out your hand.

Papyrus chuckled and stood up to take your hand. He led you out past the fire before pulling you up close to him. You both effortlessly fell into position. He leaned in and pressed his teeth to your forehead before the dance began.

You were a little caught off-guard by the action. Was that a kiss? You decided it was. With a deep breath, you focused on your movements and making this the best tango you'd ever danced in your life.

As you soon found out, that was easier than you would have thought. Your bodies melded together and moved smoothly. You could almost swear his soul was pounding in time with your own, the intense passion of the dance bringing you both so close together. You gave in, allowing your body to express what you felt for him as you held him tighter.

You could swear he was doing the same. Although the dance called for sexual tension, you could feel it in the way his hands held you, pulled you close and then pushed you away, and the way he spun you only to pull you close again and nearly kiss you, his face less than an inch from yours each time.

A part of you felt as if you were truly making love to him, baring your soul and accepting his in return. Your body cried out in passion, each turn and pull, kick and step, turning into something beautifully sensual.

As the dance ended, he pulled you close and dipped you, bending your back further than you'd bent in a long time. His face hovered close to yours. You opened your eyes to see his eye lights take the shape of tiny hearts. You couldn't help yourself. You lifted your head and kissed him.

It was only a brief kiss, but you felt your whole world change. He lifted you back up and both of you panted, out of breath, as he guided you back to your seat. At this point, you weren't sure if you were still out of breath from the dance or the kiss.

"Hot damn," someone muttered.

You weren't sure whose voice that was, and you weren't really interested in finding out. Instead, you closed your eyes and leaned into Papyrus' chest. His arm wound around you and held you tightly.

"So, um…anyone else want to dance?" Sans asked as he stood up.

You looked over at him. You could have sworn he winked at you. Maybe he meant for the gesture to be for his brother.

Nobody said anything, but there were a few muttered 'no's as people shook their heads.

As you said goodbye to Papyrus' friends—and your friends, you figured—you began to realize what had actually happened in the back yard.

All of his friends had witnessed the two of you expressing your love for each other. Papyrus was in love with you. Your heart warmed, and you didn't want to leave.

Soon, the house had dwindled down to you, Papyrus, and Sans. Sans stayed outside for a while, and you sat on the couch with Papyrus.

"Chameleon?" he asked, his voice soft again.

You looked up at him and hummed.

His arm around you tightened a little, pulling you ever so slightly closer. "Thank you for dancing with me tonight."

You smiled. "I would dance with you anytime, Papyrus. Any kind of dance you want." You leaned in a kissed him.

His eye sockets widened for a moment, and his cheekbones turned orange. "I…I thought you kissed me earlier because you were…I didn't realize you meant it."

You pulled back a little. "I'm sorry, did you not want me to?" The thought kind of hurt, but you wouldn't make him uncomfortable like that.

He shook his head. "It's not that. I want you to, but…" He sighed, and the lights in his eyes looked down at his hand in his lap. "It's not fair of me to ask you to love me."

You reached out and put your hand on his cheekbone. "Papyrus, you don't even have to ask. Please look at me." He did, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. "I can't explain why I feel this way. I just feel like we belong together." You shrugged a little. "Especially after that dance. I've heard that monsters can't lie when they dance. Is that true?"

He nodded, barely moving his head. You smiled.

"I wasn't lying either, when I danced tonight."

You watched as his face changed from hesitation to acceptance, and then to longing. He leaned in and kissed you, softly pressing his teeth to your lips.

After he pulled back, he gave you another soft kiss to your forehead and pulled you in close to him. You snuggled into his chest. As you thought about this newly forming relationship, you recalled the conversation you'd heard in your nearly unconscious state earlier. You looked up and placed a soft kiss on his jaw.

"Papyrus?"

He looked down at you. "Yes?"

You sat up and took his hand. "I want to be exclusive; you and me. Are you okay with that?"

He smiled. "I'm perfect with that."

"Good. Um…I also have to confess something." You weren't sure what he was going to think about this, and you looked down at his hand in yours. His fingers gripped yours tighter, waiting for you to spill your guts. "I was kind of awake earlier…when you were talking with Sans…" You felt guilty now, as if you had something you could hold over him. You didn't like it.

His fingers stiffened in yours. You looked up, and your heart broke at the scared look in his eyes.

"You were?"

You nodded. "I was so tired and for a while I wasn't even sure I was awake, but I'm pretty sure now that I was. I want you to know that there is nothing in your past that could turn me away from you. Sans was right; I'm not perfect. I might not be perfect for you, either, but I'd sure like to try."

He pulled away from you slightly. "You can't know that," he said, his voice sad. "You don't know what's in my past. What if I hurt someone?"

You met the lights in his eyes. "Who did you hurt?" Whoever it was, you knew he had a good reason.

Your whole soul nearly crumbled at the sight of orange tears gathering in his eye sockets.

"I didn't…No, I didn't hurt anyone. But I've been hurt. I'm damaged, Chameleon; I don't deserve someone like you."

"Oh, Papyrus, how can you think that?" You moved closer but backed up again as he pulled back. "You deserve someone much better than me, but I don't want to give you up."

"You don't understand; I don't deserve anyone. I…" He sucked in a deep breath and refused to meet your eyes. "I can't…"

"You don't have to tell me, Papyrus. In time, when you're more comfortable, we can talk about it again." You tried to reach out to his face again, but he pulled away.

You watched with pain in your chest as he sat up and scooted away from you. You wished you could comfort him, but it seemed no matter how you tried he couldn't let you in.

"I can't be with you," he said, his eyes closing. A single orange tear fell down his face.

"But you said you wanted to be with me." You were confused; how could this night go from being so in love to being crushed?

"No, I mean…physically. I can't be with you."

That made a little more sense, but you were on edge. You had just barely become a couple and you were terrified of him breaking it off if you said the wrong thing.

"I don't need that," you said simply. And it was true; you wanted a relationship with him in any form he'd give you.

"You say that now but give it a few months and you'll change your mind. Relationships like this…they always turn physical. I suppose it's only natural, but I can't give that to you."

You wanted so badly to reach out to him. Instead, you folded your hands together in an attempt to keep them in line. "Papyrus, please; I love you. I just want to show you."

He sniffled and shook his head. "Showing someone you love them should never be painful."

Your brow furrowed; you weren't sure what he meant by that. "No, it shouldn't. Am I hurting you somehow?"

Again, he shook his head. "No, but I'll only end up hurting you." He looked over at you then, sorrow and something deep hidden in his soul showing in his eyes. "It's inevitable, Chameleon. I should never have asked you to dance with me tonight. I'm sorry for that. You should go home."

"You said that if I had something difficult in my past, you'd want to help me heal. I want to help you, Papyrus. Please let me."

"You can't heal me, Chameleon. I'm far too broken for that."

"But—"

He stood up. "No; no buts. It was a pleasure to know you, Chameleon. Please get home safely. I'll see you at the competition."

With that, he walked away.

You couldn't make yourself get up. You sat there staring at the coffee table for a moment, wondering how on earth you had screwed this up so badly. If only you had kept your mouth shut. If you hadn't told him you'd been awake, you could still be together. Instead, you had your heart handed back to you as if it meant nothing to him.

You felt tears prickle in your eyes, but you didn't want to cry. This was your own fault, you were sure of it. You should have been able to convince Papyrus that you'd be good for him if it were true.

"What's goin' on?"

You looked up to see Sans at the back door. You sniffled and stood up, feeling a bit awkward.

"Where's Paps?"

You shrugged. "I'm not really sure."

Sans put his hands in his pockets and took a step closer to you. "What's goin' on?" he asked again. His meaning was clearly different this time; he wanted to know why you were crying. Could he feel your crushed heart?

"I, um…I don't really know. I mean, Papyrus and I, we talked for a little. I…made a big mistake and now we're not even going to try to be together. He told me to go home."

Sans' brows furrowed together. "Then why are you still here?"

Again, you shrugged. "I guess I'm just hoping this a dream somehow, and I'll wake up to find he still loves me?"

You watched as Sans looked you over. He took a few steps closer. "Did you hurt my brother?" he asked, both of his eye sockets pitch black.

You could feel the threat coming off him in waves. It forced you to take a step back. "I…" You wanted to say that you hadn't, but you had to face facts now. You had hurt him. It didn't matter that you didn't mean for it to happen, but you realized that he never intended you to hear what he'd said to his brother. He never wanted you to hear his hesitation or to know that something might hold him back from being with you. You'd hurt him by listening in on a private conversation.

You nodded. "Yeah, I hurt him." Your chest constricted painfully as tears gathered in your eyes. "I heard you and him talking earlier. I was awake, kind of. I told him, and he…" You sniffled and shrugged. "I didn't deserve someone like him anyway."

You turned and left. Sans didn't try to stop you.


	3. Chapter 3

When you got home, you sent a text to Papyrus to let him know that you had made it safely.  He never responded to you.

You showered and got ready for bed, tired from a day full of dancing.  You climbed into bed and hugged your pillow tightly.

Even though you’d only known him for a few days and danced with him a handful of times, you felt like you’d lost your best friend.  Your soul ached to see him again, to go back and keep yourself from telling him you’d been awake.  Or, better yet, to let him know you were awake on the couch when Sans had come in.

You let yourself cry then, mourning the loss of a relationship that hadn’t even had a chance to start.  You could have been so good for him.  You knew it, down to the deepest depths of your being; you could have helped him.  And he, in return, could have been good for you.

* * *

 

Over the next few days, you tried to get back to normal life.  You did laundry and cooked dinner and talked to your friends.

Everything felt like you were putting on an act.  Even eating your cereal in the morning took more effort than you thought it should have. 

You found your thoughts drifting to Papyrus every moment your mind had a chance.  You wondered how he was feeling, if he was okay, and if he’d talked to Sans.  If you were being honest with yourself, you were a little worried that Sans would do something for what you’d done to Papyrus, but he never showed.

If anyone had told you a week ago that a broken heart would distract you from dancing, you would have laughed in their face.  You’d had broken hearts before, but all they did was make it easier for you to dance.  You could pour all of your emotional stress into your body and make it move like never before.

But now…as you tried to practice and prepare for the competition, you found your body was unwilling to move the way you wanted it to.  All you could think about was that damn tango.  Each time you went to step, you felt broken and out of practice.

The first several times you tried, you ended up giving up in a fit of rage.  How dare your own body rebel on you?  You found your eyes settling on your razor a few too many times for comfort.  You eventually hid it in the cupboard, thinking you’d rather be hairy than pick up that habit again.

The week of the competition came, and you still hadn’t been able to dance a single step.  You called up the board and let them know you were dropping out.  You didn’t dare get up on that stage if you couldn’t even plant a few steps in the right place.  You decided you’d be a part of the audience instead.  Maybe you’d get to see Papyrus dance.  You really hoped he hadn’t been as affected by everything as you had been.

Your friends and family were disappointed in you for dropping out of the contest.  You tried to explain your reasons to them, but they didn’t understand.  You knew they couldn’t; they didn’t feel the things you felt.

Your fingers itched to text Papyrus or call him to find out how he was doing.  The one time you gave in, he didn’t answer.  He never tried to call you back either, despite the message you’d left asking him to do just that.

On the day of the competition, you dressed nicely and arrived at the auditorium a half an hour early.  You didn’t want to admit to yourself that you hoped you’d get to see him. 

You spotted Undyne and Alphys coming in a few minutes after you.  You weren’t sure how friendly you should be toward them; what if Papyrus had told him that you’d hurt him?

Undyne smiled and waved at you.  “Heya, punk!” she all but screamed.  “Long time, no see.  You’re dancing today, right?”

You blushed and shook your head.  “No, I dropped out.”

She gave you a curiously upset frown.  “Why would you do that?  You’re amazing!”

Well, you used to be.  “Thanks, but I’m just not feeling very good.  I’d probably trip and embarrass myself.”  Understatement.

“Oh.  Well, you can sit with us if you want.”

Alphys nodded, showing you she was okay with that idea.

You decided to go for it.  Maybe it would increase your chances of seeing Papyrus.

As you made your way to your seats, you noticed Sans sitting a few rows back from the front.  Undyne screeched a greeting out to him, and he just raised his arm.  You swallowed hard as Undyne pushed you in front of them.  You ended up sitting next to Sans.

“Hey,” you said softly.

Sans gave you a sideways glance.  “’Sup.”

You licked your lips and swallowed.  “Um, not much.  How are you?”  You really wanted to know about Papyrus.

“Great.  My brother’s been a complete mess for three weeks, but yeah, I’m fine.”  He shifted in his seat and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

You felt like you’d just been punched in the gut.  You really didn’t have anything to say to that.  Before you could decide if you wanted to speak at all, Undyne reached across you and tapped his shoulder.

He was a completely different person talking to her.  You watched with fascination as he smiled and laughed, making jokes—some really inappropriate—and seeming to enjoy himself. 

You felt bad for yourself again.  He seemed like he would have been a good friend.

Soon enough, the show began to start.  The first few dances were humans.  They did good, you thought, probably pouring their hearts into their routines.  Toriel and Asgore were the fifth performance, and they killed.  They got a standing ovation for their performance.  More humans and mediocre applause followed.

Then it was Papyrus’ turn.  You sat forward in your seat, so eager to just _see_ him.  He walked out on stage, and you felt like you could breathe for the first time in almost a month.  He was dressed in a white shirt with a rose in the left breast pocket, brown pants, and shined shoes.  He stopped in the middle, posed, and waited for the music to start.

You watched, completely mesmerized by his movements.  You had to admit, you were a little jealous that he could still dance while you were somehow left with two uncoordinated left feet.  That didn’t matter, though, because watching his body move to the music did wonders to your soul.

He looked out at the audience, and suddenly your eyes met.  You could swear he faltered a step, but he gained it back easily. He looked away instantly, but the impact was still left on your heart.

You felt it then, the utter loneliness of his dance.  You saw in his movements how much he craved the touch of another person.  It brought tears to your eyes and made you remember how amazingly you and he had fit together when you’d danced with him. 

By the end of his dance, you were openly weeping.  You realized then that two hands were on your back.  Undyne patted gently while Sans just let his hand linger for a moment longer.  You sniffled indelicately and managed a rough ‘thank you’ when Sans handed you a tissue.

You didn’t pay attention to a single dance after that.  You couldn’t.  All you could think about was how Papyrus must be feeling.  Monsters couldn’t lie when they danced.  He was hurting, and it was because of you.  You continued to cry throughout the rest of the competition.  Sans ended up handing you three more tissues.  You didn’t bother to ask him where they were coming from; you were just grateful to have them.

You stood up for the final ovation simply because everyone else did.

A part of you wanted to just go home and wallow in your own misery after the crowd began to disperse.  However, when Sans asked if you wanted to go backstage and say hi to his brother, you forgot about that idea.  You needed to see Papyrus again.

You were surprised when Sans grabbed your arm and suddenly you were in a different room.  It was just the two of you.

“Okay, listen,” he said, as if it was completely normal to just suddenly be somewhere else.  “I know you have feelings for my brother.  He’s struggling.  He still has feeling for you, too.”

You hiccupped a little, not sure if you dared to believe him.  “He does?”

Sans nodded.  “Yeah, but you gotta understand something.  He’s been hurt, okay?  Like, real bad.  I know if you asked him to give it another shot, he would.  But, he’d constantly be wondering if what happened before is gonna happen again.  If you get together with my brother, you be good to him.  And remember that if you ever hurt him, I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

His eyes were dark again, letting you know that he meant that threat with all his soul.

You swallowed.  “I would never hurt him.”

He narrowed his eye sockets at you.  “You swear?”

“I swear.  Why would I ever want to hurt him?  I just want him to be happy.”

He stared silently for a moment before he nodded.  “Okay.”  He grabbed your arm again and suddenly you were backstage. 

“Okay, what the crap just happened?”

Sans chuckled.  “I can teleport,” he said simply.  He walked away, leaving you to ponder that.

You didn’t ponder for long.  You saw Papyrus standing with Toriel and Asgore as they talked with Undyne and Alphys.  He looked happy.  A part of you wanted to walk away and keep that image in your head forever, but you couldn’t.  You watched him for a minute and were rewarded when you heard his laughter ring out across the area.

He looked down when Sans tapped his arm.  Whatever Sans said to him made him look up, and suddenly you found yourself locking eyes with him.

His smile faded, and you felt yourself start to drown.  He wasn’t happy to see you.  The thought crushed your soul easier than a hammer might crush a butterfly.  You really wished you could leave now, but he was walking toward you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.  “And why did you drop out?”

You weren’t sure how to answer the first question.  Or the second, really, but at least you could make up a decently convincing lie for that one. 

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately,” you mumbled. “The last few days, I mean.  I didn’t feel like I could dance.”  You shrugged.

“You’re lying to me.”

You swallowed and looked up to meet his eyes.  His looked sad.

“Why do you insist on lying to me?”

“I…” You couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment.  With a deep breath, you caved.  “I haven’t been able to dance since that night,” you confessed.  “I’ve tried, but I just stumble over my own feet like a toddler.”

“Why?  Are you okay?”

You shook your head.  “No, I’m not okay.”  Your arms wrapped around your middle and you tried so hard to keep any more tears from falling.  “I feel like I lost a part of myself, Papyrus.  I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry.  I never intended to listen in on a private conversation.  I want another chance to prove I can be better.”

He stared at you like you had just confessed to loving him all over again.  In a way, you supposed you had.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close.  You closed your eyes and gripped the back of his shirt in your fists.  As you breathed in, you relished the smell of his cologne.  You nuzzled your face against his chest.

He didn’t pull away for a few long moments, but neither did you.  You didn’t want to let go when he loosened his arms and began to pull back, but you told yourself you’d get more hugs.

“Would you like to come to dinner with us tonight?” he asked.

You frowned.  “I wish I could, but I’m having dinner with my parents.  Can we do tomorrow night?”

His smile made you feel a little better.  “Tomorrow night it is.  Come by the house around seven.”

“It’s a date!  Or…well…”  You blushed; you hadn’t meant to say that.

His soft laughter made you smile.  “It’s a date.”

* * *

Papyrus had made lasagna.  He clearly had a penchant for Italian dishes.  He was a good cook, so it was okay.

Dinner that night was just you and the skeleton brothers.  Sans was quiet as he ate, but you could swear he was watching you.  Almost as soon as he was done, he was gone.

“Sans has been acting strangely today,” Papyrus said with a little frown.  “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.  He told me twice that he was going to keep an eye on me, as if I’m a child who can’t take care of himself.”  He sighed.  “Anyway.  How are you doing, Chameleon?”

He smiled at you from across the table.  You smiled back.

“I’m doing a little better, I think.”  Knowing that he was going to give you a second chance made you feel like you were a whole person, at least.  “How are you?  Are you okay?”

His smile wavered.  “I’m…going to be okay.  And I’m sorry that I never returned your calls or texts.  I was…I don’t know what I was.  Confused, I think.”

You nodded.  “It’s okay; at least we’re here now, right?”

“Right.”

You helped him clean up, and then the two of you went to sit on the couch.  He allowed you to snuggle into his side, and you let yourself be comforted by his arm around you.

“I feel like I need to apologize,” he said softly.

You looked up at him.  “Why?”

He pressed his teeth to your forehead.  “Because I panicked the last time we were on this couch together.  I was so scared about what the future might look like for us that I didn’t even consider a happy ending.”

You reached up and gently touched his face.  “I’m the one that scared you,” you said with a frown.  “I shouldn’t have listened in.”

He shook his head.  “That has nothing to do with it.”  His fingers began to move hesitantly across your arm.  “I told you that relationships like these turn physical eventually.”

You nodded.  “You did say that, but—”

“Please…I need to say this.”

Again, you nodded and shut your mouth, waiting for him to speak.  He looked down for a minute before coughing a little.  It almost sounded like he was clearing his throat despite not having a throat.

“A few…um…several years ago, I had this partner.  He, um…”  He paused, glancing at you sideways as he shifted uncomfortably.  You wished you could give him comfort and tell him it was okay, whatever he needed to say.  “I was young and stupid. I thought I was the luckiest monster alive to be with him.  He was very outwardly sexual.  Everything about him screamed sexuality, and I thought I liked that about him.  I thought that because I resonated with Latin dances, I was also supposed to be a sexual monster.  I didn’t understand…until we got too close one night and I realized that I didn’t want…he, um…he didn’t let me stop.”

You stared at him in shock.  How could someone take advantage of him like that?

“Oh, Papyrus.” Your voice was barely a whisper.  “I’m so sorry.”

Orange tears fell from his eyes as he avoided meeting your eyes.  “I can’t…”

He hesitated, but you didn’t let him finish.  You reached out and gently wiped a tear away.

“Papyrus, I’m not like that.”

He looked at you then.  “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you are.”

“I know, but I couldn’t ever hurt you like that.  I love you.  As long as we can dance together—and I mean actual dancing like swing and tango and whatnot—then I’m happy with us.  Maybe someday we’ll want to explore other ways of being physical, but I won’t ever push for that.  Hell, I won’t even ask for it.  I’ll let you set that pace.”

He sniffled and nodded.  “What if you get tired of waiting?”

You smiled.  “That’s what toys are for.”

His face flushed orange.  “The one partner I had after him…she got impatient.  She said if I wasn’t willing to recognize that she wasn’t my abuser then I didn’t deserve to be with her.”

You softly rubbed your thumb across his cheekbone.  “She was wrong.  She’s the one that doesn’t deserve you.  You were raped, Papyrus; only you can say what’s okay and what isn’t when it comes to a physical relationship.”  You leaned in and gently placed a kiss on his opposite cheekbone.  “I will never question you or push you.  But, you have to promise that you will tell me immediately if I do something that makes you uncomfortable.”

He nodded and kissed your lips.  “You are truly amazing.”

“Can I tell you something?”  Since you were on the topic of past abuse and emotional scars, you figured it couldn’t hurt to get your own demons out.

“Of course.”

“I used to cut myself when I got sad.  It helped me to deal with the pain.  I have a lot of physical scars from that, but they’re in places you won’t see when I’m wearing clothes.”  You sucked in a breath and met his eyes.  His were concerned but comforting.  “I almost cut again this last month.  I don’t want you to feel bad, okay?  I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.  I just want you to know, because sometimes I might make a comment about it, or I might go a while without shaving.  That’s because I still struggle with it.  My legs are super fuzzy right now because I don’t dare hold my razor.”

“You didn’t cut yourself?” he asked, almost sounding amazed.

You shook your head.  “No.  I hid my razor so I wouldn’t be so tempted.”

He pulled you in to a tight hug and kissed your head.  “I’m so proud of you.”

Tears welled in your eyes.  Nobody had ever said that you.  Everyone was disappointed when you cut, but nobody was proud when you didn’t.  You closed your eyes tightly and squeezed your arms around him.

“I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you, too.  I will always be here to encourage you.”  He squeezed sharply one more time before pulling back and meeting your eyes.  “Please never feel like you have to hide from me.  Together we’ll make it through.”


End file.
